Chemistry much?
by RedCyanide
Summary: Ash falls in love with a purple-haired young man, which also happens to be his new Chemistry teacher...Paul/Ash - ComaShipping
1. First impressions

**8th grade is so awesome!**

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'_Riiiiiiiiing'_

The alarm clock flew across the room, landing on a pile of dirty clothes, ringing furiously when the sleepy teenager punched it off the nightstand. He pulled the blanket over his head, trying hardly to ignore the ears-piercing sound of the clock. The thing that Ash Ketchum hated the most about school was the fact that he had to wake up so early. Apart from that, he liked going to school. He was a studious and smart student. This year, however, was going to be a bit harder for him. He was finally eighth grade, the last year in elementary school, and he was going to high school after that. New classmates, new teachers. First day in high school is like the first grade in elementary school. Everything is new to you.

Seeing that the clock wasn't going to give up so easily, Ash pushed the blanket off him and walked to the clock, stopped the alarm and stuffed it into the drawer. He whipped down the stairs, jumping from the fourth step directly on the kitchen floor, his socks sliding slightly on the wooden floor.

"Hey, mom!" he greeted the brown-haired woman, who was leaned over the sink, washing the dishes. Before she could greet him back, he already left the kitchen, leading to the bathroom. Mrs. Ketchum shook her head slowly.

"This boy is really excited to begin school." She murmured.

Ash washed his face, drying his face with a towel, rubbing so intensely that his face became a bit red, blood rushing to his cheeks. He brushed his teeth emphatically, rinsing his mouth with some fresh, cold water.

Back to his bedroom, he carefully got his uniform out of his wardrobe, trying not to tousle it. He put on the black pants, white shirt and red tie and combed his messy black hair. He could hear some voices coming from the kitchen. He recognized his friend's, Misty, voice shouting at him.

"C'mon Ash, we're gonna be late!" Ash walked down the stairs, looking at his friends. May, Misty and Brock, dressed in uniforms, were standing the kitchen. Misty crossed his arms, throwing him an angry glare. "Where have you been?"

"Don't worry, Mis." He calmed her down as he was putting on his shoes. "We'll arrive just in time."

--

The school's courtyard was filled with students when Ash and the group arrived, from the sheepish, little first graders to the tall, arrogant eighth grade students. Ash eyed a small group of eight grade students, standing near the wall of the school. In the middle of the group was Gary Oak, leaned against the wall and looking sneeringly at the first grade pupils.

"Look at those scared faces." He snickered. "We're going to have so much fun this year." The rest of the boys laughed. A little boy looked up at them, then tailed off scared. Ash frowned, walking confidently in front of them. Gary Oak had been his rival since they were little kids. Ash would do anything to show that he was better than Gary, even defending some little children of him and his band.

"Gary!" he almost shouted, startling two of the boys which had their back turned on him. "Just because you are eighth grade now, this doesn't mean you have the right to bully them." Gary pushed himself off the wall, advancing on Ash until they were face to face. Gary was taller than Ash and more muscular, and Ash quickly started to regret he had interfered.

"Ashy boy," Gary said with a smirk spreading on his lips. His hand stretched quickly and caught Ash's shoulder, squeezing him until he let out a small squeak of pain. "When are you going to learn this lesson?" Ash's hand tightened around his wrist, trying to make him loosen his grip. A voice behind him stopped Gary.

"What's going on here?" Gary let go of his shoulder immediately, taking a step backwards.

"I was just playing a bit with him." He said, before he turned around and left, his band going after him. Ash rubbed his shoulder gently and turned around to look at the person.

"Thank you." He said, then stopped. In front of him was a young man, not older than 20, with longish purple hair and black piercing eyes. Ash blushed slightly, lowering his head, trying to avoid his stare. He had never seen that boy before.

"You should have been more careful." He answered before turning around and leaving him alone. Ash watched him until he disappeared inside the school. He stood there for several minutes. Why was he feeling so distracted? Why those black eyes affected him so much? They were so…beautiful.

He shook his head, looking around for his friends. Misty went to greet Dawn, May was instructing her little brother Max. Finally, Ash eyed Brock, who was standing on a bench, looking extremely desolated after the most popular girl in school rejected him (again). He went over, sitting next to him.

"Don't tell me you asked her out again!" he said, placing a hand on Brock's back. "C'mon, Brock. There are a lot of pretty girls in this school." Much to his surprise, Brock's face lightened immediately.

"You're right, Ash. I'll go out with other girls and show her that I'm good enough for her." He stood up and started running through the courtyard towards a group of giggling seventh grade girls. Ash slapped his forehead. Brock will never change.

The first bell rang and Ash felt some weird shivers running down his spine as he sat between a curly brown haired girl and a green haired boy, both from his class, looking at the teachers. He was curious to see if there were new teachers. There were new teachers indeed, talking to the old ones and smiling encouragingly at the students, especially to the little ones.

Ash looked at the new teachers. Finally, Ash saw him, leaned against the wall, his purple locks falling over his face. Ash studied his handsome face features, his well defined cheek bones and sharp chin. He seemed lost in his thoughts, but he raised his head just in time to notice Ash staring at him. Ash blushed and lowered his head, just like he did the first time he was looking at him. There was something special about those eyes. They were special for him.

He elbowed the curly haired girl. "Who is that young man with purple hair?" he whispered in her ear.

"It's Ms. Paul Weiss." She replied. "He's the new Chemistry teacher." Ash nodded, looking again at the black-eyed boy. The new Chemistry teacher… This year was going to be harder than he expected.

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**Should I continue?**


	2. The test

**I'm on strike.**

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Ash sat down on his chair, playing distracted with his pen. That was the last class of the day: Chemistry. Ash rocked his chair back and forth, really nervous. A part of him was impatient to meet his new teacher, but another part of him wanted him not to come to their class.

"Ash, are you okay?" Brock asked him, patting him on the back. Brock was standing right behind him in the class.

"Yes, I am." he replied right when the door opened with a slight creak. The purple-haired young man stepped in and silence fell above the class. Ash bit his lip. Paul walked to the desk, putting his bags and the catalog on it.

"Hello, class! My name is Paul Weiss and this year I'll be your Chemistry teacher."

"Hello, Mr. Weiss." the students murmured. Gary crossed his arms, looking disdainfully at the young teacher. He had been the one who dared to interrupt him from teaching Ash a lesson he wasn't going to forget so soon. But no worry; he smirked; he was going to catch him later.

Paul opened the catalog and began calling the students' names.

"Ketchum Ash" Ash stood up, feeling his knees so weak like they were made of jelly.

"Here." he said, his voice trembling slightly. Paul fixed him with his onyx eyes, making him blush and lower his head. Why on Earth did he choose to stay in the first desk?

After the last student sat down, Paul closed the catalog and pulled some papers out of his back.

"Because I'm a new teacher, I'm going to give you a small test to see what you still remember from 7th grade."

Ash felt like the ceiling had collapsed on him. A test? But he didn't remember anything from 7th grade. Three months were enough to erase everything from his mind. He looked around and he felt a bit relieved when he saw the perplex faces of the others. Seems like they were as clueless as him, except for Brock, who had a wide smile on his face and was tapping his fingers into the desk, waiting for the test.

Ash turned around as Paul gave him a paper. Ash frowned, looking through the questions.

'_What's the definition of the atom?'_

'_I know this'_ he thought and began writing frenetically the answer. His deskmate, a short boy with red hair and grey eyes lifted his head, trying to look into his paper, but Ash put his arm across the desk, blocking him. It was his problem if he didn't know anything.

However, Ash didn't know what to answer at the next questions. He knew the number 5, the law of conservation of mass and the number 8, about chemical valence.

He heard the sound of a chair being dragged as Brock stood up and put his test on the teacher desk. Ash began to feel tempted to ask Brock about the answers, he was sure that Brock would help him. But that was called cheating, and Ash hated cheating. He tapped his biro into his desk, trying to remember something. And he did. He answered two other questions. He had five answered questions.

"Time is over, please give me the tests." Ash stood up and put the test on the desk. The bell rang and Ash, Brock and Misty went outside, talking about the test.

"It was so easy. I think I answered all of the questions." Brock said, really proud of himself. Misty snorted.

"Oh, shut it." she said. "I barely answered two questions. What have you done, Ash?" she asked Ash.

"Well, I answered five questions, but I'm not sure if the answers are correct."

"What an ass, to test us right in the first day." the red-head girl said angrily. Ash frowned a bit, but he didn't say anything.

"I think he just wanted to see at what level we are." Brock said, defending the young teacher. "What do you think about him, Ash?"

Ash blushed slightly. "Well…I think…" he stuttered. He was let off from answering by a voice behind him.

"So you thought you're going to escape so easily." Ash turned around and bumped into the tall figure of Gary.

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**I have just realized that in the first chapter I said "Ms. Paul Weiss." Please don't tell me that 'ms' means 'miss'. If it does, then I have just made Paul a girl. I'm sorry for it, you know that English isn't my first language and it is impossible to not make some mistakes sometimes, no?**

**Please review.**


	3. Conceit

Ash's eyes widened as Gary's smirk grew larger and larger. His arm shot out and caught his shoulder before Ash could react, squeezing him tightly. Ash gritted his teeth as Gary's fingers sank into his flesh. Surely there will be some nasty bruises later. His arm stretched out by instinct to grip Gary's arm, trying to make him loosen his clutch. He felt Misty tense behind him, but Ash doubted the fiery-haired teenage girl would stand a chance against Gary. Even since kindergarten, Gary had always been taller and bulkier than any other teenagers of his age. And to make it worse, his favorite prey was always Ash.

"Scared, Ashy-boy?" he purred out in a playful voice which made Ash sick at his stomach.

"Stay away from him, Gary!" shouted Misty, throwing him a venomous glare which would make any other kid run and scream after his momma. But the 8th grade student only smirked at her and silenced her by pressing a finger to his lips. Brock looked around the corridor; no one was coming, neither teacher nor student.

"I've been telling you for years, Ashy-boy." He hissed at him and Ash tried to turn away his head, but Gary's free hand gripped his chin. His breath was whipping Ash's face, piercing blue eyes staring into soft brown ones. "You'll never be better than me. I have no idea what your relationship is with that purple-haired brat, but it's not gonna work." Ash felt like his face had been set on fire. Relationship. With his Chemistry teacher!

"What do you mean?" But he never got to hear the answer as Misty forcefully shoved Gary away from Ash. Gary stumbled backwards, a few curses escaping his mouth. Gary lunged at the red-head and backhanded her away, but almost immediately Brock slammed into him, sending him into the nearest wall. Gray slid down the wall when his hand found something on the floor. His hand wrapped around it and he stood up, turning to Brock. Ash's brain ceased to function when he saw Gary stand up and advance on Brock wearing an ominous, scary expression on his face. In a split second, Brock was thrown backwards on the marble floor, landing painfully on his back.

"Brock!" Ash shouted after his friend, trying to run to him and check if he's okay, but Gary got in way. All that Ash was aware of five seconds later was a dull pain in the back of his neck. He staggered, desperately searching for something to lean against to keep himself from falling. He found somebody's shoulder; somebody the same height as him or maybe a bit taller; and leaned hard into them.

"Oak, please refrain yourself from hurting Ketchum and go to the principal's desk." He heard angry, rushed steps resound on the hall. The voice of the person who spoke seemed familiar. He was hearing it in class every time they were studying the past of his country and their ancestors. It was his History teacher.

"Mr. Weiss, will you please take Ash to the nurse?" Ash's eyes suddenly shot open, completely forgetting about the throbbing pain in his head. The person he was leaned against was Paul! He abruptly pushed himself back on his feet, wincing when his head started to spin wildly.

"No, I'm fine. Really." He murmured to his History teacher, whose image was by now starting to blur and split in two, forming a carbon copy of him. Ash shook his head, but it only flared up the ache.

"No, you're not Ketchum." The teacher insisted, taking his arm. "Please follow Mr. Weiss to the nurse." He lightly pushed him towards the young man.

"I'm fine!" Ash said desperately. Behind him, the History teacher was checking Brock, but he seemed to be fine, and so was Misty. They were worried for Ash instead.

"You should go to the nurse, Ash." Ash wasn't sure if Brock was really saying those things or they were just in his imagination. However, his vision was starting to clear and now he could see Paul stand beside him.

"C'mon." he said simply, rushing him towards the nurse's cabinet.

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"Oh my god, Ketchum! You're so lucky that you haven't cracked your head open." The voice of the nurse was all could hear right now, while standing on a chair in the middle of the all-white cabinet. She examined his head, her fingers brushing against his jet black hair. Paul had explained the nurse that Ash had been hit in the head with a handle of a hammer that Gary Oak found on the hall while he was fighting with Ketchum's friend, Brock.

Ash bit his tongue when the nurse's fingers pressed into a sore spot on the left side of his head.

"It's a bump here." She said, uncapping a tube of ointment and squeezed some in her palm. It was transparent and had a strong, unpleasant smell. She rubbed the ointment on the bump, some of it getting into Ash's hair and making it greasy. Ash made faces as the cool gel was rubbed gently onto the scalp. Then the spot began to burn.

"Leave it this way." She told him. "You can wash tomorrow."

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The classes were already over when Ash got out of the cabinet, so there weren't any students on the hall to gather around him and suffocate him with the usual question: "What happened to you?", just like it was always happening when they saw somebody go out of the nurse's cabinet. However, on one of the long benches place along the walls was standing a man, purple hair elegantly framing his face. Ash hesitated a bit at first, but he took a deep breath and approached the Chemistry teacher.

He raised his head, fixing him with onyx eyes. Ash felt himself melt under that deep stare and he lowered his head, perfectly aware that his face was tomato-red right now.

"You're fine." It was a statement, but Ash nodded slightly. Paul stood up and Ash raised his eyes to him. Paul's face was unreadable, but Ash had a feeling that he wanted to say something to him. But he decided against it.

"You should go." Ash nodded again. Paul already turned to left and he finally gathered enough courage to speak.

"Thanks!" he muttered quietly, but loud enough for Paul to hear. Paul's head turned towards him for brief second and Ash could have sworn he saw the shadow of a smile ghost over Paul's lips.

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**Hope you liked it! Reviews are welcome!**


	4. Unfortunate

"Ash!" Delia Ketchum rushed by the side of her only child, clutching his arm almost painfully. "I got a phone call from your school." She said, her tone betraying an immense concern. "What happened?" But Ash didn't feel like explaining to her. It felt odd. He had always been very close to his mother since his father had…left them, but this time he wanted; no, felt like; his mother to stay out of this. He didn't want her to know what caused this; even he didn't know clearly.

"Gary." He answered simply, plainly, to make it seem like it was just an ordinary clash with the brown-haired boy, the ones they usually had since they were little kids.

"Ash, this is getting serious!" You're telling me… "It has never come to this before." That was right. "I must talk to Professor Oak." Ash rolled his chocolate eyes. He highly doubted that the researcher could change something in Gary's behavior. Thankfully, his mother decided that she had squeezed enough Ash's arm and she headed to the kitchen, probably going to make a phone call. Ash took advantage of this and quickly ran up the stairs to his room.

He slammed the door behind him, throwing his schoolbag on the chair. He let himself fall on the bed, forgetting to take his uniform off. A certain scene kept playing in his mind ceaselessly: a corridor covered entirely with white tiles, long benches along the walls and a purple-haired head turning towards his as he came out of the nurse's cabinet, the left side of his head still sore.

--

A heavy sigh escaped plump lips and Ash tapped his fingers onto the desktop, completely lost in his thoughts.

"Gary is not in class, if that's what you're worried about." Ash slightly jumped when Misty's voice hit his ears. He nodded absently, looking idly at Brock getting kicked in the shins by a girl that he was trying to ask out. Misty sighed, murmuring something he couldn't understand. Ash knew that she thought he was worried about Gary. He really appreciated it when she was trying to help him, but this time he wanted to deal with it alone. He didn't want to drag anybody; Misty or Brock or even May; down with him. His eyes glanced at Gary's empty seat and he vaguely wondered where he was.

The door opened brusquely and Paul walked in front of the class, surveying it. He glanced at some of the empty seats, at the students in the back of the classroom playing "rock, scissor and paper" and finally at the student staying in the first desk, near the window. Ash felt the oh-so-familiar-now blush creep up to his cheeks, but Paul's eyes didn't stay fixed on him too much.

"Here's your tests." He said, handling them the papers. Ash took it with two fingers, quickly glancing at the big number written with red ink: 7. Underneath it was a neat signature which read "W. Paul"

"_Not bad." _Ash thought. He looked in the class. His desk-mate was scratching his head, staring at his 3 like he was expecting it to turn into an 8. Misty was cursing under her breath, looking at the sheet of paper. On her test was written 5. May was very content with her 8. She smiled softly at him and gave him a wink. Ash returned the smile, but it fell as soon as the brown-haired girl turned her head. To his right, Dawn was complaining that her 6 wasn't enough. A boy three desks away from him; the name was Drew, if Ash remembered correctly; was running his hand through his green hair, bragging rather loudly about his 9. He vaguely remembered that he was trying to impress his friend, May. Ritchie waved his sheet in his direction: he had a 7, too. Behind him, Brock was smiling widely. Ash shortly laughed.

"High score again?" he asked. Brock showed him his paper. It had a huge 10 written on it.

"Bravo!" he congratulated his friend. The fuss stopped when Paul was again in front of the class, slightly tapping his long, pale fingers onto the desktop.

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A hooded figure leaned hard against the wall, listening to the clarinet sounds coming out of a classroom. A smirk appeared on his face. Everything was set and nothing would come in the way.

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**Reviews are welcome!**


	5. Grudge

**Hello! I'm sorry for not updating this story sooner, but I've been busy with other stories of mine xD and I kinda had a writer's block for this one. Now that the summer holiday is here, I'll go through all of my 'in progress' stories and try to update them. xD**

**Now on with the story. Enjoy!**

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"The oxygen is a member of the chalcogen group on the periodic table and is a highly reactive nonmetallic period 2 element." Stifling a yawn with the back of his left hand, Ash quickly wrote down what Paul had dictated, then put his pen back to his pencil box. There were just three minutes left from the Chemistry class and he was eager to get out of the classroom. During the class, after he gave them their tests, Paul seemed to avoid looking at him, turning his head away whenever the jet black haired teen would throw a gaze in his direction.

The bell rang while Ash was writing down his homework. Paul left the room and Ash looked at his back. He was feeling somewhat disappointed that the purple haired young man didn't give him any attention. What could have been the reason for ignoring him? Misty and Brock came to him, bags hanging on their shoulders. The three of them led to the cantina.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a whole pig." Misty said, slamming the plate with spaghetti on the table in front of her and eating hastily. Ash and Brock both took salad. Ash dragged his chair closer to the table, but he didn't feel that hungry. He poked at the salad with his fork, head leaned against his left hand.

"Something wrong, Ash?" Brock asked, and Ash shook his head. He forced himself to take a bite of salad. Quickly, the cantina filled with students, chatting, eating or studying. Misty already finished her spaghetti and now she was eyeing Ash's salad, which he barely touched.

Ash was ready to tell her that she can take his food, when a piercing sound of shattering glass filled the cantina and made the students startle. One of windows broke, shards scattering across the marble floor. Ash's head jerked in the direction of the window when the doors of the cantina flew open.

"Everybody stay in place. Don't move." A voice said and Ash's eyes went wider and wider. He knew that voice very well. "Gary." He whispered, looking horrified at his friends. Both Brock's and Misty's faces were twisted into scowls. Gary and two of his friends were sitting in the doorframe. Ash could see something black into Gary's hand when he raised his arm in the air.

A loud bang could be heard, followed by the screams of the students. Dust filled the air when the bullet had hit the ceiling and Gary lowered the gun satisfied, wearing a grin on his face. Ash was trembling, hidden underneath the table. Everybody was shocked and scared. Why would Gary do such a thing?

"What on Earth is going on here?" Several voices could be heard and the headmaster, along with the History, Physics and Chemistry teacher burst inside the cantina, the sight of the three boys, one of them having a gun, the hole in the ceiling and the terrified students.

Ash felt his knees get even weaker when he saw Paul. _'No, no, no, get away from here.' _He prayed. He was scared for Paul's life now, even more scared than he was for his own life. Gary carried a grudge against him since they were in kindergarten, and newly, he had also threw Paul in, since he interrupted him while he was trying to give Ash a lesson during the first day of school. Ash's heart was beating like wild, banging against his ribcage. If something would happen to Paul, it will all be his fault.

"Don't move." Gary said almost softly, pointing the gun at the headmaster, who gasped. How dare he point a gun at him? The History teacher stepped forward to defend the headmaster, but one of Gary's friends slipped a dagger out of his pocket and grabbed the nearest girl by the hair. The girl let out a yelp, but she was immediately silenced by the dagger pressed dangerously against the skin of her neck.

"Make a step and she dies." He said. Ash watched horrified the whole scene. What was going to happen now? Happily, a courageous enough student decided to do something. The other friend of Gary was bust checking the hallway, to make sure that no other professors would come. The boy tiptoed to the boy holding the girl and slammed a chair into the back of his head.

In the next five second, several things happened, and the mess began. The student immobilized Gary's friend, who seemingly fainted from the force of the blow. Gary's other friend tried to intervene, but the Physics teacher, a really bulky one, tackled him and sent him flying into a row of tables.

Through the mess of running students, Ash tried to see something, but Misty grabbed his arm and dragged him to the exit. He let her lead him when he saw something which made his heart stop: Gary, with a gun pointed at Paul.

In a blink of the eye, he forgot about anything. He didn't care that he could have been hurt, all he had to do is to make sure Paul was alright. In a blink of the eye, he jerked himself out of Misty's grip. He heard her alarmed yell, but he didn't care. He was right behind Gary. He caught his arm and pulled at it, making Gary miss the aim and shot at the ceiling again.

"You little brat!" Gary turned around and Ash felt fear again. Was Gary going to shoot him? The brunette shoved him harshly backwards and his back hit the wall. He slid down the wall and lowered his head, wondering what would happen next. The sound of a brawl made him raise his head again. Paul had punched Gary in the face, judging by Gary's bleeding nose. He was frozen against the wall. He wanted to rise up and give Paul a hand, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Only he saw Gary ready to punch back he found the necessary strength to stand up.

He was aware of the burning pain into his chest, but he couldn't care less. He threw himself in front of Paul and took the punch. He took the hit which was meant for Paul. He looked at the teacher; his face was unreadable, betraying no emotion. Ash didn't know if he was content or not, but he felt content with himself. But it didn't last long.

With widen eyes he saw Gary point the gun at him. He knew he wouldn't have time to dodge. He closed his eyes; it was going to end here. Strange end, though, being shot by a person you actually grew up with, even though he hated you. But if it was going to be like this, so be it. He could feel tears gather behind his closed lids.

The sound of the shot reverberated through the whole cantina. Strange, he thought, he felt no pain. No pain, only a light shove. What happened? He opened his eyes slightly to see a mop of purple hair, a pale face twisted in pain and blood dripping slowly to stain the clothes. Suddenly, everything crashed to the ground.

"Nooo!"

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**Hope you liked it! Eek, I didn't mean to make Gary so mean xD Hope you're not angry with me or something xD :) Reviews are welcome!**


	6. Affection

**Wedding in neighborhood means music at its highest intensity. Usually I can't write if somebody is singing in my head, but this wedding music with "here comes the godfather with the fiddlers" with "I drink the wine with the jar" and "but the wind blows, the waters flow and the stones stay in place; it's hard, but beautiful the Romanian's life." inspires me :))**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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The time stopped. Everything around him stopped moving and ceased to exist, no sound breaking through the numbness that crept up his brain. He sat there unmoving like a cold block of stone. There were just three things he was aware of, in this entire madness: the snap of a shot, a soft gasp of pain and stream of blood dripping down milky skin onto the floor, in a small puddle. In a blink of the eyes he had thrown himself on his knees, the impact of the hard wooden parquet with his kneecaps sending two shots of pain through his bent legs, but he wasn't aware of that. His shaking hand stretched out to touch the other's arm, eyes fixed on the place where the clothes were torn and the flesh was sheared by the steel of the bullet. Crimson oozed out of the wound and stained the lime skin, the contrast between red and white looking so beautiful, yet so sinister.

Ash's fingertips were dipped in the fluid as tears flooded freely from his eyes, unable to stop them.

"Paul…" the words managed to slip off his tongue, weak and trembling. But the other scowled and avoided his touch and his pity, trying to move away and hissing in pain as he shifted and clutched his arm. The loss of the blood was making him dizzy, the sight of the black haired teenager crying in front of him; for him; blurring and splitting and shaking.

A sudden impulse that he couldn't control made Ash push his body forward and another sudden blink of madness pulled him closer and closer to the older man, until they were face to face. He wasn't aware; and he didn't care; that blood soaked his shirt until it stuck to his stomach. All he knew now was that his face was centimeters away from Paul's, his heavy breath hitting the bridge of his nose. Unsure, he closed the gap.

Paul responded with a slight start when he felt the boy's lips touch his own for a brief second. Warm and short, but full of attachment. The boy pulled back, afraid he had done something wrong, but when he looked up in the usually cold onyx eyes, he wasn't met with disdain or hate, but with…affection. And a smile crept up to usually frozen lips, but suddenly melted and then his body went limp into the boy's arms.

Panic shot through Ash's brain like a round of steel as the name of his teacher was called frantically. It was the moment he became aware of what was going on. The hall had been evacuated, the police had been called at the school and Gary and his friends had been arrested. He could feel his cheeks and ears burn; in the room were the headmaster and the History teacher. What if they had seen him kiss Paul? But it didn't matter right now; Paul was lying unmoving in his arms and the seed of panic that planted itself inside him when he first heard the gun shoot began to bloom. What if it was too late?

He shook his head. He shouldn't think of it like that. Paul will be fine. Yeah, he will be fine, he thought and the grip on the purple-haired man's unharmed arm tightened. And he would be there with him.

Somebody put their hand on his shoulder like soothingly and he heard the voice of his History teacher.

"Ketchum." Compassionate tone, he hated that. He brought himself closer to Paul's inert body, blood soaking and staining him all. The grip of the hand on his shoulder tightened as if to pull him away, but he won't let go.

"C'mon Ketchum, we must bring him to the hospital." Slowly, Ash moved away and watched with teary eyes as the older man takes the young man in his arms and brings him outside, where an ambulance was probably waiting. Ash expected the headmaster to say something, but he didn't have the chance as the doors flew open again.

"Ash!" he was surprised to hear the voice of his mother and his head snapped in the direction of the doorframe to see her almost run towards him with unstable steps and hug him tight to her chest. When she let her go, she was horrified to see the blood staining his clothes, but the headmaster explained her what happened.

He didn't want to hear the story again so he drifted away, his thoughts always at Paul.

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**Reviews are welcome!**


	7. Reminiscence

**I'm so lazy right now it hurts :))**

**I'm typing this directly in the document manager editor, since my Word 2007 spellchecker has just mysteriously stopped working. Just great. This week wasn't exactly the best I had.**

**DISCLAIMER: I'm already tired of saying this, _frate_: I own nothing.**

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The conversation between his mother and the headmaster was playing somewhere in the back of his brain like a radio gone out of order. There was also a dull pain in his chest raking at his insides and probably an angry bruise forming underneath the bloodstained shirt, but they also stood in the background, the jet black haired teenager ignoring them. The one thing he couldn't ignore was the sensation of anxiety rushing up his system like nausea, his brain fretting slowly and agonizingly. That succession of event was hard to digest, hard to cope with. He glanced down at his once white shirt, now stained copper with dried blood; an evidence of the damage that had been done. He shut his eyes tightly until purple lines started to dance on the back of his closed lids. What hurt the most was that Paul had been wounded because of him. If he wouldn't have dived to push him out of the bullet's way, he wouldn't have been hurt. Then he would have died, yes, but Paul would have been alright.

Guilt joined the anxiety and Ash felt the bile rise in his throat and the fought the sensation to throw up. The voices in the background had stopped; when, he didn't know; and a hand touched his shoulder. He felt it through the thin fabric, its warmth calming him a little; just a little.

"Ash, dear," but the soft tone of her voice made him sick again. She'd probably tell him things like, 'it's not your fault, baby', 'stay calm' and others. That made him furious. It was his fault. Tears stung in his eyes and rolled slowly across his cheek until they were brushed away by the same warm hand.

"It will be OK." Well, it better be, he thought bitterly. He'd go insane otherwise.

* * *

It's been two weeks, or so he was told, since he never counted them and since they stretched awfully to the size of millenniums. On a bench, outside the school, he sat there with Misty and Brock when the gates of the school had opened and somebody so familiar stepped in. Slightly longer purple hair, onyx eyes seemingly warmer, and a slender arm wrapped into a dark blue scarf, which in some places was falling loose to reveal white bandages underneath. Suddenly, his heartbeat increased.

"Isn't that...?" Brock didn't even have time to finish the question. Ash sprinted towards the school, throwing the notebook he had been holding in his lap, trying with no result to memorize the lesson, onto the alley. Pushing students around and not even bothering to say sorry, he almost flew through the double door. He kept running even inside the school, ignoring the teachers outraged cries. He barely could stop in front of the teacher's room, crashing into the wooden door. Considering that was enough for a knock, he pushed the door handle and stumbled inside.

"For God's sake, Mister Ketchum!" the headmaster's angry voice hit his ears. "Who gave you the permission come in like this?" But Ash was wordless, not because of shame or remorse, but because of the running. All he could gave for an answer was a strangled gasp. For a brief moment, his brown gaze met Paul's coal one. The expression of the older man was unreadable as he stared shortly into Ash's pools of melted chocolate, then turned his head towards the principal.

A pang of fear stabbed Ash's gut. Paul didn't want to look at him. So he blamed him for what happened to his arm; Ash's arms wrapped around his stomach, trying to control his raspy breath and fighting back the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He noticed, through a blurry mass of tears pooling in his eyes, that Paul had a paper in his uninjured hand. Without a word, he put it on the older man's desk. He took it and read it.

"So you wish to quit your job." Ash flinched at this. That meant, Paul was leaving...wasn't he?

"I have come to a conclusion that teaching in this school is quite...dangerous." there was something in his tone that Ash couldn't quite put his finger on. The bell rang somewhere in the background but he didn't hear it. And perhaps neither did his headmaster, or else he'd be shooing him to his class. The headmaster stared a bit at the paper before signing it.

"Well, then, thanks for your services." his tone was low, perhaps wondering where the heck he'd find another Chemistry teacher after all that mess. Paul nodded slowly before saying goodbye and turning to leave. Ash stood there, stoned. He wondered if he'd ever see him again, when the lavender haired young man stopped beside him.

"Get a move on, Ketchum, your late for your class." Ash flinched, then said goodbye to his headmaster before leaving the cabinet behind Paul. The hall was empty; unlike him, the other students actually heard the bell. He bit his lower lips softly, troubled. What to do? What to say? Paul wasn't looking at him. He cleared his throat, trying to catch his attention, but he still didn't turned towards him.

"I...I am sorry for all that happened, sir." he said sheepishly, then lowered his head ashamed. For a moment, nothing was heard and Ash started to think that Paul had already left. He left a little gasp of surprise when a hand wrapped its fingers around his chin and pulled his head up slowly. He found himself staring into Paul's eyes and the blood rushed to his cheeks. The thumb brushed against the left one, doing nothing else but making the shade of red become even more violent.

"It's alright, I think." Ash lapsed into a smile as he wrapped his arms carefully around Paul's waist, pulling him into a gentle embrace. He must be going insane; he thought, but the hand patting the back of his head encouraged him. They broke away and Ash suddenly felt cold without Paul's body pressed into his, but a smooth brush of his lips over his own made him feel warm again. The little smile he pulled against Paul's lips faded.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked and the young man looked down.

"Yes," he said. "But we'll see each other again, I'm sure." he ran a hand through Ash's coal hair. "Now go, you're late for your class."

Ash smiled and turned around, running towards his class. When he was about to turn the corner, he threw a last glance backwards to see Paul leave the school's courtyard and he felt a small trance of regret.

But they will see each other again, he was sure of that.

* * *

**Okay, that was the end xD I have a feeling it's kinda crappy xD**

**I had fun writing this chapter, it remembered me of my old classmates. Lol, one of them actually did that: came crashing into the teacher's room door then went in like nothing happened. And walking on the hall was an extreme sport: you could get tackled, tripped, hit by notebooks and stuff etc. *sigh* I already miss them xD**

**Reviews are very welcome! :)**


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